May God grant you many years to live, For sure He must be knowing The earth has angels all too few And heaven is overflowing.

May you have food and raiment, A soft pillow for your head, May you be forty years in heaven Before the devil knows you're dead.

May the Irish hills caress you. May her lakes and rivers bless you. May the luck of the Irish enfold you. May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.

There's the joy of ole' Killarney, in these wishes meant for you; There's a bit of Irish blarney, and a touch of magic too -- There's a wish of lots of laughter, and good luck, be sure o' that; And a wish that all your dreams may come true in no time flat.

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May the winds of fortune sail you, May you sail a gentle sea. May it always be the other guy who says, "this drink's on me."

You son is your son today, but your daughter is your daughter forever: A man is only a son until he takes a wife. But as a daughter gets older, she will stay near the family, draining it of money and time for years to come. In Irish Gaelic, it's Is é do mhac do mhac inniú, ach is í d’iníon d’iníon go deo.

May your troubles be less And your blessings be more. And nothing but happiness Come through your door.